Rainy Days
by Selena Snow
Summary: The war redefined many things. Before, Hermione Granger's idea of a rainy day was reading, sitting with her parents, and the whistling sound of a tea kettle. Perhaps it's time for Fred Weasley to change all that. (AU where Fred lived, Post-DH, Fremione, One-Shot, May continue)


It was one of those lovely rainy days that Hermione Granger loved. The sky was colored in a variety of grays, rain was splattered across the windows, and thunder rumbled lowly in the distance. Yes, it was the perfect sort of rainy day, the kind that made her reminisce of times before the war, before she even went to Hogwarts. Days where she would sit with her mum and dad watching the rain as they read in the living room. Days where the tea kettle was whistling constantly, and her mum drank cup after cup of tea. Hermione could still smell the fragrance of her mum's favorite kind of tea. That particular scent had always blended with the smell of the rain so well.

The sensations that assaulted Hermione today were completely different.

Instead of the smell of fresh pages of a book waiting to be read, there was the faint waft of firecrackers. Instead of her mum's favorite tea, there was a sumptuous-smelling wave of pies being baked by dear Mrs. Weasley. And instead of the comfortable silence of her family's living room, there was the loud chaos of the Burrow. Hermione watched idly from her seat near the fire as Ron chased George around, shouting after him about some sort of jinxed biscuit he'd just eaten. Harry and Ginny had taken advantage of the rainy day and gone out to the Three Broomsticks for a warm butterbeer. Mr. Weasley and the three oldest Weasley boys were out at their jobs, leaving Fred the only one unaccounted for.

Hermione mused over this. No, Fred wasn't really unaccounted for, she just hadn't seen him that morning. He was still recovering from that nasty run in during the battle; certainly he must still be in bed, she concluded. Most days, Fred would lie up in his room sleeping off the effects of the curse that had been put on him. Nothing else could be done for it. It had been a crutiatus curse, after all. Hermione understood Fred's want to do nothing better than anyone. She ran a finger across where her scar was hidden under her jumper. Perhaps she should go check on him; that would be more appealing than sitting in a chair and lamenting the loss of her family's memories.

Setting her book aside, Hermione clutched her blanket around her shoulders and shuffled upstairs. She found his and George's door and, taking in a deep breath, knocked gently. There was a muffled "come in" before she turned the door handle. Fred was lying in bed on his side, peering out from under his quilt with curiosity.

"'lo, Mione," he greeted. "What's brought you up to my humble abode?"

She shrugged. "I thought you might like some company. It seems that everyone else is busy today," she said as she went forward and sat down on the edge of his bed.

Fred fixed Hermione with a look, and he propped himself up on his elbow. "No, you've got somethin' else on that big mind of yours," he said calculatingly. She blushed and wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "What is it?"

She tried to ignore him and stare out the window, but he was staring at her, waiting for her answer. Finally, she sighed and admitted, "I miss my parents. Sometimes…sometimes certain things will remind of them. A smell, or the taste of something like my mum used to make. And then I'll remember a memory of my family all together and remember that…they can't." Hermione's voice broke off. "They don't know who I am, they can't recall all of the good memories that I can…and I did that to them. And I can't take it back."

Fred was sitting up now, cross-legged and looking concerned. Hermione wiped away a stray tear and laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to unload that onto you. I'll just go-"

"No, it's 'lright," Fred told her. "We've all got things leftover from the war that we gotta deal with- 'specially you out of everyone. You went through a lot more than you're given credit for."

She smiled at him sadly. "Thank you, I suppose…" A moment of understanding silence followed. "So," she cleared her throat. "As one unforgivable-curse-survivor to another, how are you doing?" she asked.

The older red head in front of her smirked. "Better than I thought I'd be, honestly. George an' mum still like to fret over me every second. Sometimes I still feel like…" he suddenly stopped, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "It's hard to explain-"

"Like you're drowning?" Hermione prompted in a small voice. "Like the pain is still there, but it comes and goes?"

Fred's face softened. "Yeah, that." He was staring down at his hands now. Hermione could see that they were still scraped with red slashes from the stones that had toppled onto him mid-curse. "What about you?" he murmured.

"The same," was her quiet reply. "My scar is easier to cover up, however." She nodded at his hands, and he tilted his head at her, asking a silent question. Hermione responded by rolling up her jumper sleeve. His eyes widened. She held her breath as he traced the foul word with a shaking hand.

"Who-?"

"Bellatrix," she said quickly. "She's gone now…your mum handled her." Fred had gone completely silent. He was staring at Hermione with a mix of emotions that she couldn't piece together. Regret, she could see. Pain, understanding, and concern were there, as well.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then finally, "Hermione, I'm so- I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he whispered. Hermione didn't know how to respond. She could feel herself blushing, and she ducked her head bashfully. She'd never really talked with this about anyone. Harry and Ron had just accepted it, no questions asked. No questions were needed, really.

A few minutes passed quietly. Neither one knew quite what to say, and neither one wanted to say anything that may upset the other. Hermione had just worked out a way to say goodbye when Fred grabbed her hand. "Wanna join Harry and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks? I heard they were going there today, and I can never leave wonder-boy alone with my little sister for too long," he suggested with a grin.

Hermione smiled back at him. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

The war redefined several things. It redefined fear, death, friendship, true love, pain. Well, perhaps it was still redefining things. All Hermione Granger knew was that her definition of a rainy day had since changed. It was no longer reading with her family in the silence of her home as the tea kettle whistled loudly. Now it was laughing with Fred at the Three Broomsticks as she sipped on a warm butterbeer and blushed at his flirtatious lines. Oh yes, she still thought of her parents on those rainy days. But now she had someone new to share those days with.


End file.
